


Doctor Who?

by swallowthewhale



Series: Killervibe Week [10]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Doctor Who AU, cisco is the doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 04:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14993096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swallowthewhale/pseuds/swallowthewhale
Summary: Caitlin left time travel behind for a reason. So when the TARDIS shows up out of nowhere, she's understandably reluctant to go.Killervibe Fanfic Week 2018: Time Travel





	Doctor Who?

**Author's Note:**

> For wanderingxrivers on tumblr who requested a killervibe doctor who au ages ago

Caitlin freezes in the middle of brushing her hair as a familiar wheezing fills her small apartment for the first time in months. She yanks her hair back into a ponytail, frustrated, and stalks into the living room as the TARDIS materializes two inches to the left of the couch. At least he didn’t land on top of the coffee table, like he had before. He’d been very apologetic, but Caitlin hadn’t been as mad as she pretended to be. 

Caitlin crosses her arms as the door swings open, expecting the Doctor’s broad grin and typical bright attitude. Instead, the Doctor comes out with a cloud of smoke, cursing and waving his sonic screwdriver at the TARDIS threateningly. His shirt is wrinkled, his hair disheveled, and there are dark bags under his eyes. Caitlin softens against her own irritation. 

“Doctor?” She asks quietly. 

He startles, as if he didn’t see her. “Caitlin,” he says softly, stilling before whipping around to face the still smoky TARDIS. “When I said somewhere safe, I didn’t mean here,” he mutters. 

Caitlin’s mouth quirks into a small smile. She had been the one to cut off their adventures, but it was nice to know the TARDIS still considered her apartment to be a safe spot to land. “Is everything okay?”

“Not remotely,” the Doctor grumbles, then sighs and leans against the TARDIS. “I may have gotten myself into a bit of a scrape,” he admits, as if it doesn’t happen to him every other week. “I just need to do some repairs and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Sounds familiar, Caitlin thinks. “Can I help?”

“Oh no,” the Doctor says. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

Caitlin rolls her eyes and brushes past him into the TARDIS. She purrs, as if pleased to have Caitlin back. “What have you gotten yourself into?” Caitlin asks the TARDIS quietly, pulling a screen down to look at the engine status. “I can fix it,” she decides. “It’s the same issue as we had in Ancient Greece, remember?”

The Doctor doesn’t seem to remember, but he’s looking at her with an exceedingly fond smile. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Move on, apparently,” Caitlin says wryly, but she’s smiling because, damn, she hadn’t realized how much she missed this. How much she missed _him_. 

The look in his eyes is entirely too much for Caitlin to process right now. 

Flushing, she looks away. “Let's get this fixed. Then we get work out whatever trouble you got yourself in.”

The Doctor’s mistake, apparently, was starting a revolution that wasn’t supposed to start for another 100 years. 

“What exactly are we supposed to do about this?” Caitlin asks, hands on her hips as she stares down at a city full of protesters on some far off planet in the distant future. “Tell then they should stop and wait another 100 years?”

“No,” the Doctor admits, dejected. “Maybe-”

“If you think I’m going to help an oppressive regime be more oppressive, you’re dead wrong,” Caitlin interrupts tartly. “Can’t we just, you know, free them a little ahead of schedule?”

They continue to hotly debate the best course of action until the Doctor jumps a full foot in the air. “Great Caesar’s ghost!” He yelps, pointing his sonic screwdriver at the young human man who had tapped his shoulder. 

The young man looks thoroughly unimpressed. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“We’re not,” Caitlin says. “But here we are anyway.”

He hesitates, then introduces himself as Arthur, the leader of the growing rebellion. 

Arthur brings them to the rebellion headquarters, informing them of their plans and strategies on the way. Caitlin had long gotten used to the Doctor’s disarming ability to earn just about anyone’s trust in a matter of seconds. The Doctor mostly listens, pointing out a flaw or two, but stops short when the lookout calls out, “DeVoe,” with a nod as they pass. 

The Doctor pales, stammers out an excuse and beats a hasty retreat with Caitlin in tow. 

“That bowtie,” Caitlin says. “Ugh. How are they in fashion in the future?”

“Bowties are cool,” the Doctor protests under his breath, but he looks just as disturbed as he does relieved. 

“Doctor?” Caitlin prompts. 

“That,” he eventually says, “was Arthur DeVoe, the first in a long line of totalitarian dictators. His great-great-great-grandson, Clifford DeVoe is the ruler at the time of the rebellion in 100 years.”

Caitlin just raises an eyebrow. “I guess you didn’t do as much damage as you thought,” she says rather calmly, as this is the typical result of the Doctor’s interventions about half the time. 

He still looks dejected as he flips switches on the TARDIS console. 

“Doctor,” Caitlin says, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

“I should get you home,” he says, still refusing to look at her. “I didn’t mean to drag you away.”

“Doctor,” Caitlin says more firmly, tugging at his arm. “You didn’t drag me away.”

He pauses. 

“I was looking for any excuse to see you again,” she says quietly. “You’re just rather more difficult to run into than anyone else.”

He smiles sadly. “That’s true.”

“Let’s go somewhere new,” she suggests. “Somewhere beautiful and peaceful?”

He grins. “I know just the place.”

Caitlin’s favorite thing about the TARDIS, besides, of course, time travel being _real_ , is sitting in outer space with her feet dangling off the side and just looking at the brilliant sprawl of the universe in front of her.

The Doctor nudges her with his knee so that she scoots over and he can sit next to her, shoulders pressed together. “I miss having you around,” he admits quietly, refusing to look at her as she glances over.

“How long has it been for you?” Caitlin asks, leaning against him a little. 

“Six months,” the Doctor says.

Caitlin blinks. It’s only been two months since she asked the Doctor to let her go. She had her own problems to sort out, and a medical degree to finish. 

“It’s not like I can find just anyone to travel with,” he says with half a smile. Then, more quietly, “It’s not like I could find anyone to replace you.”

Caitlin sighs. “I missed this. I missed you.” 

And that seems to be enough of an apology for the Doctor, because he wraps his arm around her shoulders and squeezes. 

“This is home,” Caitlin whispers, so quietly that she’s sure he didn’t hear.


End file.
